Highland Dragons

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The stone walls of Dragoncross Abbey splintered into a blurring mosaic that almost instantly reappeared as oak filled woods, winding dirt roads, and cloudy skies.

The grind of carriage wheels sloshing through mud puddles licked at Rylie’s ears.

She’d expected to at least feel something physical having just hurled through centuries of time. But no heat strained her veins, no throbs hammered her head, and no holes plagued her memories. It was simply as if she’d always existed in the here and now. Just like she had in the future.

Rylie fell forward, the carriage dipping. “This is not how they show it in movies.”

“Don’t expect anything to be like Hollywood, Rye. Even though technically this is not reality as this is a moment from the past, it is real for us. At least while we’re here, this is all real.” Zerek gently helped her back to sit comfortably on the black leather tufted seat across from him.

He looked so damn hot in his kilt, white shirt, and dark gray wool jacket. Even his cuffed knee socks and black leather ghillie brogues with their laces wrapped tight around his ankles elevated Zerek’s sex appeal. Today’s choice of dress was in complete contrast to his modern-day leather pants, black shirts, and boots. And yet Zerek pulled off both looks smashingly, making her want him regardless of what he wore. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be a repeat of last night until they returned to their own time.

“If we make it back, lass, I’ll come to yer bed dressed like this for as many nights as ye like.”

“That is so not helping.”

A wicked smile graced Zerek’s mouth.

“You’re a beast.”

“And proud of it.”

He would be.

The carriage swerved, distracting Rylie. She gripped the edge of the seat to avoid falling into Zerek’s lap for a second time. She wouldn’t survive being that close to him again without being able to sate the greed teasing her clit. And every other inch of her body.

With a turn, the carriage veered right and onto a gravel drive.

Rylie glanced out the window. Rising from lush green lawns, a familiar landscape came into view. “Craignamore!” The castle looked far more regal than how she’d remembered it. Its stone fa?ade stood bright white and smooth rather than dull gray and pitted. Its palladium windows lacked the rot and faded paint she’d assessed daily, and the lawns stood immaculate, their hedges trimmed to perfection. “It’s nothing like home.”

“Most things we’re familiar with in our own time will appear different here from what we remember them as. But please don’t be alarmed by the fact. And more importantly, do not voice that alarm to anyone. Not even to me as we never know who might be listening. From this point on, we are to accept everything we see, hear, and experience as if it were expected. It’s for your own good. No one must suspect we’re from the future.”

Easy for Zerek to say, he wasn’t the one who hadn’t lived through this time period. “I’ll do my best.”

“No, Rylie, you’ll have to do better than your best.”

“Right. I know.”

The carriage came to a stop in front of Craignamore and the castle’s front door opened.

A petite woman with auburn hair and a plain, but somewhat pretty face emerged from the entrance hall. She rushed to the carriage.

Catriona.

“Is that you, Miss St. George?”

Rylie swallowed. “She’s expecting me?”

“Just go with it,” Zerek whispered. “From here on out I will be cloaked as I cannot be seen with you.”

“I thought you couldn’t cloak without your sigil?”

“You forget, in this moment in time, I still possess it.”

“Oh, right.” Keeping time travel shit sorted was not the easiest thing to do.

“Take care and don’t do anything that will lead you into trouble.”

As if mere words could keep her out of trouble.

In a flash, Zerek disappeared.

Rylie’s skin tingled.

“I’m still here, Rye.”

“I know, I can feel you.”

“Good, for as my soulmate you should be able to feel me, no matter how far away I’m taken from you.”

“That sounds like you’re going very far away.”

“I’m not. But Culloden is outside of Dundaire and I just want you to be aware of the fact if… You know what I’m saying.”

She did know. And she didn’t like it one bit.

“If all goes as it should, I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”

The short period might as well be years, in Rylie’s view.

The vehicle’s door opened; a footman dressed in formal black attire pulling down the steps.

“Sweet Aine,” Catriona said, approaching the carriage. “Is that you?”

Rylie leaned toward the spot where Zerek had been sitting. “That’s my five-times-great-grandmother’s name. Catriona obviously thinks I’m her.”

“Just go with it. And don’t keep looking this way.”

She turned her attention back to the open carriage door and to Catriona who now stood outside, offering her hand to Rylie. “I am delighted you chose to visit. Though I thought you had decided to remain in London?”

“Be as plausible as possible.”

“Circumstances dictated otherwise, Catriona.” She descended the carriage.

“How will I explain the lack of a travel trunk?”

“Say it was stolen at an inn.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

Catriona looped her arm with Rylie’s and turned back toward the castle doors. “I fear Magnus is not in residence at present. This bloody rebellion has stolen him from me more days than not this past year. It’s thoughts of our pending wedding that keeps me content.”

Pain filled Rylie’s heart, as did regret. It wasn’t easy keeping such a horrible secret. If she made it back to the present, she didn’t ever want to be in this position again.

“Did you leave your maid in London?”

She blinked. “Yes. The rebellion and all.”

Catriona glanced over her shoulder, the sound of carriage wheels turning once more. “Do you not have a trunk?”

“Stolen at an inn. Very upsetting, if I may say so. Luckily, I did manage to retrieve a few of the items and have kept them on my person out of fear of them being stolen again.”

“You poor thing.” Catriona patted Rylie’s arm. “I’m sure we can find something more for you until Magnus arrives. I fear traveling to Inverness will have to wait as it will be safer to do so in his company.”

She nodded but didn’t trust herself to say more on the subject. Now that Zerek had left her, she was on her own. Which meant she’d either stay steady or muck it all up. And for Catriona’s sake, she hoped it wouldn’t end in the latter.

“Magnus will be so pleased to learn you’ve changed your mind and came to visit. He’s such a good man. You’re lucky to have a brother like him.”

Yep, Catriona definitely believed she was her five-times-great-grandmother.

From what Rylie remembered reading in Aine St. George’s diaries, her older brother Magnus was not just a dragon slayer, he was an English dragon slayer who was also a friend to Cumberland. The Duke and St. George both served in the First Regiment of Foot Guards, with Magnus leaving early due to a frail heart. Though she suspected it had more to do with dragon slaying and the magic of that mythological world, than any physical ailment the man might have had. The duke was none the wiser, nor was the First Regiment. Of that, Rylie was certain.

Cold settled in the air.

“I fear it will rain tomorrow,” Catriona said, entering the castle’s center hall. “April is always chilly and rainy. I pray May will be better. Especially since we’re only a fortnight from my and Magnus’ wedding.”

A fortnight. Counting forward on a calendar in her mind, Rylie had landed at Craignamore precisely on April 15. The night before the battle of Culloden.

She turned and studied Catriona.

In a little more than a day, Catriona MacHendrie will be dead.